Oceans Apart
by TVJunkie1013
Summary: HawkeyeBJ implied, BJPeg. For LJ's varietypack100 prompt 15 Blue. BJ POV. WARNING: Dark, dark fic. MM SLASH implied, suicide implied, character death.


**Title:** Oceans Apart  
**Author:** Lisa M  
**Fandom:** MASH  
**Pairing:** BJ/Hawkeye - BJ POV  
**Prompt:** #15 Blue  
**Rating: **M  
**Disclaimer: **Nope … still don't own anything.  
**Word Count:** 668  
**Summary:** I used to love the ocean …

**WARNING:** Very, very dark fic. Implied m/m slash and suicide. Character death. I still don't know how I feel about this one … Written for LJ varietypack100's prompt #15 - blue.

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I used to love the ocean. 

I've lived near it almost my entire life. When I was a child, my father would take me to the beach. We would run through the surf until our legs ached. Then we'd sit on the shore and watch the water wash over the sand; pushing it towards us, then pulling it back again. During my long, hard years in medical school, I would walk to the shore, late at night, and listen to the waves lapping at the earth. It was calming. Peaceful. That comforting sound, that familiar place, helped me get through some extremely difficult times.

Peg and I purchased land near the sea, and while I was away, a house was built on that land. Before I left, we had made plans for this dream home of ours. We made meticulous drawings for the interior with strict guidelines for every single room. There must be windows in each one; floor to ceiling, if possible, for the side of the house facing the water. We wanted to minimize any obstructions to the sight of that gorgeous blue ocean.

Peg, being the thoughtful, giving woman that she was, changed those plans. Rearranging them so the room that was to be our master bedroom, would now be my office. And it would have the most spectacular view of the rippling sea.

A surprise. For me when I came home from war. My own special place with the perfect backdrop.

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But the heavy drapes that hang over my windows, placed there purely for decoration, are pulled tightly shut. They have never been opened by me. I can't bear the sight of the water now. 

It reminds me too much of him - of his eyes. Those depthless, mysterious ovals of cerulean that held me willingly captive. That comforted me through the extremely long days and even longer nights in Korea.

I can't take my daughter to the beach or run with her in the surf until our legs ache. As soon as my gaze touches the water, I am drawn back to that place. The blue waves capped with white remind me of the mischievous twinkle I would catch in his eyes as an idea took hold in his head. The deepening shade of the swells calling up the image of two smoldering navy pools raking along my sweaty, sated nude body as secrets and promises that would be impossible to keep were whispered under the cover of night.

Peg doesn't understand and I haven't tried to explain it to her. How can I? I give excuses - weak ones, at that - and she just accepts them with that sad, sad expression. I see it on her face more and more frequently these days. It scares me.

I've tried again and again to force myself to be happy in my beautiful home with my beautiful wife and my beautiful daughter. I can't. The constant sound of the waves crashing on the shore; the scent of salt water in the air. It's all too much. Too painful.

And now, as I stand here in the darkness, the cool water swirling around my feet, I wonder if Peg will find my note of apology. The reasons why I can't stay. I wade in further, the chill of the ocean soaking into my clothes - matching the iciness of my soul. The current pulls at me and I fall, allowing myself to be drawn down into its depths. I inhale, water filling my lungs. The pain I feel now is a mere shadow of the agony I've been in for the past three years - since I left myself in Korea. My eyes darken and I force my body not to struggle. I pray that I am taken far from this place - sparing my family the torture of finding me like this.

My last thoughts are of him. Of his blue, blue eyes.

Yes, I used to love the ocean.

**End**

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**A/N:** I know!!! I killed off my favorite character … I almost can't believe it myself. But I've been torturing poor Hawkeye so much lately, that I decided to spread the wealth to BJ. Hopefully, this is the last of my angst, dark, depressing fics for a while. That'll teach those BJ/Hawkeye!angst!muses a lesson! 


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